It was All About the Touches
by TheRisingSon
Summary: Freddie explains what drives him crazy about Sam, citing events like the nerd he is. Fluff.


**Schneider, you lucky bum you.**

**Thank you to those who review my first story! I feel loved! Haha... **

**I made this as a sort of combination of tiny (TINY) ideas into a one-shot. Might be rough, as in non-flowing.**

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><p>You might have thought I was crazy, but it was all about the touches.<p>

Sure, her kisses were nice, great even. Her lips soft and warm and her tongue wild and unpredictable, recalcitrant to the last degree. And they were sudden, brought on by wild whims of passion. We'd be watching TV on the couch or, more dangerously, driving to a movie. One moment we were laughing over a joke, the next moment she was straddling my lap with her hands in my hair, sucking the breath out of my lungs.

The kisses were great.

But as amazing as her lips were, they were nothing compared to her hands.

I had found out as we were walking down to the Groovy Smoothie, the first time we were alone since the whole lock-in fiasco. We had both agreed that we had no idea what the hell was going on. So far it had been okay besides the numerous awkward stares and the nervous stuttering on both of our parts.

Anyway, Carly had stayed behind to help Spencer unglue his hand from a golf club. We were walking. Just walking.

It was a nice day outside, the sun shining, a light breeze playing through the air. A leaf skittered along the ground, driven by the wind. It was unusually quiet, something that Sam usually sought to disrupt, so I absentmindedly tracked its movement as it wandered closer and closer. It flew through the gap between us. And that was the start.

My eyes abandoned the leaf when they caught on to something slightly more interesting. Sam's hands were swinging back and forth as she walked. Now normally, I wouldn't have given this a second thought. Everyone swings their hands when they walk. But it was Sam. And we were sort of right next to each other with my hand literally centimeters away from hers. And maybe that kiss from a couple weeks ago left subconscious messages or something because I was hypnotized.

Back and forth.

It wouldn't hurt would it?

Back and forth.

It was right there.

Back and forth.

Right there.

Back and forth.

I'm gonna do it.

Back and—

Trying to be as casual as humanly possible, I grabbed her hand. Sam stumbled when her rhythm was interrupted. But she quickly regained her senses and tried to yank her hand out of mine. Before she can succeed, I interlaced our fingers and she froze.

She looked at me warily.

"What..."

I jerked my head towards the Groovy Smoothie which was a couple blocks down the street.

"What are you stopping for? We're almost there."

My heart was pounding though thankfully, my palms didn't sweat. I prayed that I wasn't going to get beat up in the next few seconds. How did Sam act tough every day? This was scary work.

She must've felt weird like I did because she hesitated slightly before relaxing her arm. She waited until I began to walk to fall into step beside me. It was strange. But in a good way.

Her hand was a little rough on the outside, probably due to all the time she spent punching things. But the inside, her palm, was soft and smooth. It gave off a warmth that I'm pretty sure travelled through my hand, up my arm, and into my head, making me unable to concentrate on anything else. I could feel her pulse racing like mine. I couldn't help but imagine what we looked like, strolling along like that, hand in hand.

It was nice.

She kept giving me glances, unsure of what this meant. I certainly had no idea.

"We're just walking to the Groovy Smoothie?"

I shrugged in response.

"Yeah. We're just walking to the Groovy Smoothie."

"Okay."

And that was that. We were just walking to the Groovy Smoothie.

That was the first time I had noticed. After that, I could never forget. Miraculously, this sudden appreciation of Sam didn't destroy our friendship. In fact, we went in the other direction

"Change the channel. This is stupid," Sam grumbled from the couch.

It was a Saturday morning and we were lazing about in my apartment. Yeah, lately Sam's been hanging at my place, at least when there was nothing else to do, or Carly was busy. My mom has been unexpectedly lenient towards the so called "delinquent child." She's even made us snacks and drinks. (We avoided those because tofu chips don't go well with rutabaga shakes.) For her part, Sam has watched her language and...personality around my mom. No swearing, burping, or throwing.

Of course, she hasn't been completely mannerly. Sam was stretched out on the couch while I sat on the floor. I had told her sharing is caring, but her retort was that she didn't care. I would have believed her had she not latched onto my hand as soon as I leaned against the couch. We'd been doing that a lot. Holding hands.

I flipped through the channels with the remote in my free hand as Sam judged the shows.

"Boring. No. No. Boring. Boring. No. No. No. No. No. Boring. Stupid. Boring. Bor—wait!"

I snapped out of my coma to see that we had stopped on Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom.

"I love this movie!"

"Figures. Look, they're eating monkey brains."

She shoved my head with our hands.

"You dork. I would never eat monkey brains. Too chewy. Gorilla brains are much more tender and juicy."

I nearly threw up.

We watched Indy get himself into another tight spot, trapped in a freakish dark magic ritual. Sam was squeezing my hand with excitement. I glance over. Her eyes were bright and her mouth was in a wide grin. Sam was the type of person who would feel the adrenaline of an action movie in her even though it was just on screen.

Indy took out his trusty whip and lashed it to an overhanging beam. He grabbed the girl and boy and swung to safety.

Sam laughed in triumph, caught my eye, and frowned. She then grabbed the front of my shirt and pulled me into a kiss. As I said earlier, it was amazing. I contemplated the randomness of her actions but decided it wasn't worth it. I dropped the remote and she rolled off the couch, landing on top of me. She worked her lips against mine, quickly invading my mouth-scape with her tongue-probe. Hm. Maybe Sam was right when she said I should stop reading those nub books.

My mind was distracted when she began to run her hands through my hair. Each finger sending chills running down my spine. They reached the back of my neck where they rested. Again, I felt her pulse. It radiated waves of warmth through my chest. If there was a heaven, it couldn't compare to this.

We broke apart, breathing heavily. Our clothes were messed up. Our hair was ruffled. Our lips were swollen. It was a good thing that my mom didn't walk in otherwise it would have been three strikes and you're out.

There was the faint sound of bullets in the background. But the movie was now low priority.

"So, um...,"Sam started slowly, avoiding my gaze, "How about them Seahawks?"

"Football season already ended, Sam."

"...right."

I had to say something or this awkward silence would reach its tipping point and all would be lost.

"I think you're awesome."

Well, that wasn't what I had in mind, but I guess my mouth was influenced by the taste of Sam. She glanced at me then away and did something I had never seen her do. She blushed.

"I think you're awesome, too."

From then on, we considered ourselves a couple. We never really talked about it. We just sort of fell into it, like we do everything else. One day we were Sam and Freddie. The next day we were Sam _and_ Freddie. The school made a big deal of it when Sam kissed me during lunch, but that was pretty much the extent of how much it made a splash. Soon things died down.

Except for Sam who then realized she could bother me in twice as many ways as before.

Sam and I were studying in the school library. Actually, _I_ was studying. Sam was building a castle out of books. She was currently trying to construct a _Fundamentals of Physics_ drawbridge with some tape and a pencil. She hadn't read the book, so expectedly it kept breaking.

I opened my mouth to suggest a solution, but figured that I shouldn't encourage her. I hunkered down and started to make flashcards for my economics class. I had just gotten to the f's when a ball of paper crunched against my forehead.

"Sam," I looked up, "Stop—"

Another paper ball flew through the air, hitting me in the face.

"Directeth hiteth! Well done, Sir Righty.— I most humbly accept your praise, your majesty Princess Sam! I liveth to serve thee.—Ah, observe, Sir Lefty. Sir Righty doth understand what a catapultier in the Royal Army must do. Live to serve and serve to live.—Yeah, yeah. Shut your pie hole, ya brat. I'm on break, you see?—Well, I never!"

"Sam!"

She looked up from her imaginary conversion with her right and left hands.

"What?" She said innocently.

"Keep it down! We're in a library."

She groaned and slammed her head onto the fort which consequently crumbled under the force.

"But. I'm. So. BORED!"

There was a shush from the other students and Sam looked up, glaring while I tried to apologize.

"You know, we _are_ in a library," I pointed out, "you can read a book or something."

She rolled her eyes in annoyance.

"Yeah. Reading. I'd rather count how many breaths I take in ten minutes," she said, idly twirling a pencil through her fingers. She paused, and then fixed me with a hungry look, "You know what _I_ want to do? Get in the nearest secluded area and—"

"Sorry, Sam, but I really need to study for this test," I begged, "Please cooperate? For me? I'm almost done."

Sam struggled for a couple seconds, finally sighing in resignation.

"Fine, I'll get a book." She pointed a finger at me as she stood up, "You're lucky I like you."

I grinned. "Yeah, I know."

She wandered into the fiction section and disappeared between the shelves of books. I was worried about what she would do to me. Being Sam, she wasn't going to let this go without demanding something in return.

I returned to my work. I was in the process of writing down "hysteresis" when, suddenly, something warm brushed the back of my neck. I choked and spun around. Sam smirked as she made her way around the table to her seat.

"What's up with you, Freddie?"

I sputtered indignantly.

"You-you just..."

"Oh," she continued, "you'll never guess what I found. There's a little space in the back next to the "T" shelf."

She winked, suggesting what I thought she was suggesting.

I shook my head.

"No, I have to study."

She shrugged. "Your loss."

She pretended to read _War and Peace_. I gave her one last cautionary glance and set back to work. Coincidentally, she chose that exact moment to slam the book closed.

"This book isn't interesting at all," she said. She stood. I should have paid her more attention because as she walked behind my chair, she brushed the back of my neck again. It shot shivers through me and the "t" in "interest" developed a long, wobbly crossbar.

"Stop that!"

"Stop what?"

Of course she would. She retrieved another book and came back, doing the same thing with her hand. I glared at her, but she smiled sweetly back. Ugh, like putty in her hands. I'm such a loser. Then again, I had a smokin' hot girlfriend so it was alright.

It happened again. And that was the last straw. I jumped out of my seat. Sam laughed mischievously and flitted through the shelves. Predictably, I ran after her. I worked my way through the maze of books until I realized I had no idea where I was going. The sound of her laughter had vanished, leaving me stranded. I remembered she said something about the letter "T" in fiction so I looked at the nearest book spine. Kerouac.

I followed the alphabet as it wound along a predetermined path. I reached the "S's". It was a dead end.

Where did she...

An arm grabbed the back of my shirt and yanked me into a side aisle. I slammed into the shelf. Next to me there was _The Adventures of Tom Sawyer_. Standing in front of me was the adventurous Sam Puckett.

"Gotcha."

"But I have to—aw, screw it."

We were kicked out of the library for the rest of the year.

See what happens? She bothers me, we get in trouble, get kicked out of the library, but I'm still infatuated. You might say infatuation is shallow and is a result of hormones. I thought that too. Until I left on that trip to California.

"Hey."

"Hey."

"I'm coming back tomorrow."

"Yeah."

"Are you gonna be there?"

"Yeah."

"You don't sound very enthusiastic."

An exasperated groan. "You've been calling me, counting down the days ever since you left."

"Well it was a long month."

"So?"

"...I missed you."

"Can you be any girlier? I swear, when you get back, I'm kicking you in the nuts. You better fall to the ground crying or else we're breaking up."

"I'm just not used to being away from you for long periods of time. Sue me."

"Look, nothing's changed. You'll just get home and we'll pick up where we left off. Like you haven't even left. Okay?"

"But what if we're disconnected? Being separated for so long."

"Um...you called me every day."

"It's not the same."

"Just shut up and get some sleep."

"Fine. You better be there."

"Yeah, yeah, I'll try."

"I'm serious, Sam."

"Okay! I'll be there. Sheesh."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome. Oh, and Benson..."

"Yeah?"

"I missed you, too."

I moved with the crowd out of the terminal, towing my suitcase behind me. It was summer, the season of vacation, and the airport was packed with travelers, heading to Rome, New York, Tokyo. I didn't have the luxury of a vacation, but I did have the luxury of an exclusive, all expenses paid study program at the Jet Propulsion Lab down in Pasadena, California, a month of physics and math for the most promising, future aerospace engineers. For me, it was a dream come true. I had to use up half my summer, but it was worth it.

The other passengers in my group began to disperse. A pathway opened up in front of me and there she was.

My mom.

"Freddie!" she shouted, drawing amused looks from passersby, "My baby!"

She ran forward and poked and prodded, checking me for injuries.

"Are you okay? Was the flight turbulent? Did you have enough water? Did you get up and stretch like I told you to? You know your blood clots so easily."

I maneuvered her hands away.

"Yes, mom, I'm fine. The trip was great."

She tears sprung in her eyes.

"Look at you, graduating next year and already traveling to world renowned laboratories. I'm so proud of you!"

"Thanks, mom. I really couldn't have done it without your support."

I looked around for a familiar blonde head of hair.

"Hey, mom? Did you happen to see—"

She cut me off.

"Samantha's sleeping in one of those chairs. Though she really shouldn't. Those chairs are horribly designed. Bad for her back. She could develop—"

"Thanks, mom, I'll be right back."

I headed in the general direction my mom gestured. True enough, Sam was slumped in the farthest seat in the row, next to the big window with a view of the runway. Her hair was strewn all over her face and a half eaten sandwich lay in her lap. I smiled.

"Hey, Sam? Wakey, wakey."

I nudged her shoulder. She swiped a hand out defensively.

"Who-who is that? I-I'll kill...you," she said groggily.

"It's me, your most favorite person in the world."

"Colonel Sanders?"

"Close."

She opened her eyes. "Fredward!"

She glanced down into her lap and held up the sandwich.

"I got you a sandwich, but I got hungry while waiting. You can have the rest."

I laughed.

"You keep it. I ate on the flight."

A silence grew as we both took in long remembered sights. It was a long month. Would things really be the same? In California, I felt like I abandoned her. I called every day to make sure she didn't feel like that. But things couldn't be too sure until I returned. And here I was.

She stepped forward and took my hand, intertwining the fingers. The warmth spread through me once again.

"See? Nothing changed."

It was all about the touches.

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><p><strong>It seemed abrupt to me, but that's all I cared to leave it as. Just something to clear my head. Because I really want to try to do a multi-chapter fic, but it's daunting and I have to get my ideas straight.<strong>

**Please review! **


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